


What Lies Beneath the Skin

by Pokegeek151



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: All sorts of new tags because I didn't know how to tag, Amputee, Because Nagito's mindset is really interesting, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, Game Spoilers, Gen, I researched as much as I could, Medication, Past Violence, References to psychological trauma I guess, Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Spoilers, Trauma, Violence isn't graphic I think, sdr2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokegeek151/pseuds/Pokegeek151
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime and the others agreed to stay on the island to care for their friends. But is he prepared for the physical and psychological damage that the Neo World Program has wrought? </p><p>Hajime finally agrees to visit Nagito after he woke up, at the behest of fellow Ultimate Eri Kanda (OC), who has been serving as Nagito's doctor. It's been over a month since Nagito returned. Is Hajime ready to confront him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Lies Beneath the Skin

Eri and I walked to Nagito’s room in silence. When we finally arrived, Eri did not hesitate to knock sharply twice and enter without waiting for a response. Despite the fact that she announced herself somewhat rudely, she only opened the door enough to let herself in, keeping most of Nagito’s privacy intact.  
“Nagito, it’s me. How are ya doing today?” She asked brightly, if hesitantly, as I slipped in behind her.  
The room itself was nearly identical to the cottages from the simulation, and it was very clean and organized, except for the floor. Nagito’s customary olive colored coat was slung casually over the back of the desk chair, which was pulled out ever so slightly to accommodate. On the desk itself appeared to be a robotic hand, black with slender fingers and precise-looking joints. Attached to the wrist was a wide cup of the same color, about three inches long. Other than these two minor anomalies, the surface of all the furniture was barren and seemingly unused, even though the room had been occupied for nearly two months, now.  
The floor, however, told a different story. One corner held a growing pile of laundry that probably hadn’t been done once yet. More prominent though were the books. All over the floor were books. Paperback, hardcover. Several of them lay open, a couple face down, a few with bookmarks suspended in the open pages. Most of them were closed, however. There was a stack of books next to him, standing up to his shoulder where he sat on the floor leaning against the bed.  
His legs were curled up near his chest, and even from my angle yet another book was visible resting there. His left arm was blocked by his body, though I knew what was there, likely hidden on purpose--a woman’s hand; her hand. A couple fingers on his right hand held the next page, lifting the paper slightly. After a few moments, he turned the page, the motion accompanied by the faint crinkling of fresh paper, and his grey eyes flicked to the top of the new paragraph.  
More noticeable than his position was his appearance. I hadn’t visited him since he woke up, and I was somewhat surprised by what I saw. He was wearing his usual white t-shirt with the strange red logo on it, but instead of long pants, he wore a pair of black shorts. Both articles hung loosely from his frame. He was skinny, too, more skinny than I remembered. The way he was curled up only accentuated the length of his limbs, which also helped exaggerate the lack of mass attached to them. His collar bones were clearly visible, and not because they were inherently prominent; the skin was just so tight there. It was as if he had barely been eating. I knew it was difficult to keep everyone’s bodies properly nourished while comatose. I had been the same way when I woke up, though not to this extent, and I had recovered quickly. I was curious why he was still so sickly in appearance.  
Even more shocking than his physicality was the equipment on him. Both of his legs had small white pads with thin wires coming out. After a moment, I realized that the pads surrounded the places where he had stabbed himself in the warehouse. I shuddered at the memory of his mutilated “corpse”. There seemed to be similar pads on his left arm, though it was hard to tell. An IV rack stood steadfastly at his right side, a long tube running down to connect to his upper arm. A clear liquid filled the bag at the top and dripped slowly down.  
The most striking difference, however, was his face. During our time in the simulation, his eyes had always been bright, often manic and unsettling. Now, they were unsettling in a different way. They were dull, and his expression was a combination of boredom and sadness, one of someone who didn’t really care anymore, but wished they did. There wasn’t really despair in those eyes; rather, it was a lack of hope. And based on everything I knew about about Nagito, I knew that there must be something seriously wrong for him to not have any hope in his eyes.  
He barely shrugged as a response to Eri’s question and kept reading. She twisted her mouth to the side a bit in frustration, but quickly put a cheerful face back on.  
Determined to get a response, she said, “You actually have a visitor today.”  
He didn’t even acknowledge the comment, apparently engrossed in his book. Or perhaps he didn’t care.  
Letting out a sigh, Eri turned to me. “You’re on,” she said, waving a hand towards Nagito.  
“Nagito?” I said quietly. I didn’t know what to expect from him at this point.  
As soon as I spoke, his head snapped up, and his face immediately livened up. For an instant, he looked ecstatic. Then he suddenly became hugely embarrassed and he stood up awkwardly. The book clattered to the floor, the page he had been on lost, and he quickly hid his left hand behind his back. “Hajime!” He practically shouted. He seemed genuinely happy, and there was hope in his eyes again. “If I had known you were coming, I would have cleaned up. My apologies.”  
I smiled awkwardly at him, and I couldn’t help looking around the room as he mentioned the mess. Eri, apparently, had done the same, though she wasn’t surprised like I was. Instead, she was upset.  
She quickly walked over to the desk and picked up the robotic hand I had seen earlier. “What the hell, Nagito?” She said, holding the hand in front of his face.  
Meekly, he gave her a strained grin. “Sorry, Eri. I just...forgot.” As he spoke, he held both his hands up in defeat.  
“What the hell?” I said, echoing Eri’s sentiment, though for a completely separate reason. I had been expecting a delicate woman’s hand where his own left hand should have been. Instead, there was nothing at all, just a smooth stump a couple inches short of where the wrist should have been.  
Nagito glanced at me, and, seeing the horror in my face and realizing his mistake, quickly tried to hide the stump behind his back again. “Ah, sorry, Hajime. Um,” he stuttered.  
Eri was not deterred. Ignoring me, she continued. “What do you mean, ‘you forgot’? This happens every day. You need to get used to using it.” Nagito frowned and cast his gaze to the floor. “We need to know if the model works. If it irritates your nerves or doesn’t work right, we can replace it.”  
“No! I mean, please. You can leave it. I’ll wear it.”  
I was surprised at his reaction. He seemed to dislike wearing the prosthetic hand, yet he didn’t want it taken away? Part of his contradictory nature, I suppose.  
I watched silently, processing the situation, while he sat down dejectedly on the well-made bed and went through the process of attaching the prosthetic hand. It took several minutes as he lined up a small sensor over the stump and fitted the cup over it. He adjusted it a little, then satisfied, moved all the fingers, bending them in towards his palm one by one in quick succession. The motion was so fluid that if I hadn’t watched him put it on, and if it didn’t look so robotic, I would never have thought it was fake.  
He sighed and put both hands on his legs. He hung his head in defeat. After a moment, he turned his face upwards and sideways to face me. He looked disappointed, but when he saw my face, he smiled again. “I’m so glad you’re here, Hajime. I’m surprised that someone like you would want to come see someone as worthless as me,” he said. “I’m even more useless now. At least before I could try to help you all in the trials. But now…” He trailed off, looking at himself and all the equipment and machines attached to him.  
It occurred to me that he had barely moved more than an inch or two from his orginal position, despite all the excitement of the past few minutes. Then I remembered the IV attached to his arm. He can’t go anywhere.  
“When was the last time you changed the pads?” Eri asked, exasperated.  
Nagito sat up and faced her, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. “When was the last time you asked me?”  
“Nagito! You shouldn’t leave them on for more than twelve hours at a time. We’re doing this now. Where are your extra gel pads?” She started rummaging through drawers on the desk.  
“I don’t have any in here. You’ll have to go get some.” He sounded almost like his usual self, if a bit more tired.  
Eri sighed loudly. “Fine. But seriously, you need to take better care of yourself. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her like a normal person would, which was harder than she usually handled patient doors. She was clearly pissed.  
As soon as she was gone, I turned to Nagito, who was still sitting on the bed. He certainly looked more cheerful now than when I had first walked in. “How bad is it?” I asked, out of the blue. He gave me a confused look. “What’s with all the medical equipment? Was it always like this?”  
Nagito turned away from me, letting his gaze fall to his hands, which were still resting on his legs. One was pale and fragile looking, the other black and metallic. “There’s a lot going on right now. Sometimes, I think I would have been better off staying dead, you know? But I’ve been given another chance. I need to have hope that I’ll be able to do something great. I need to use my hope to overcome my despair.” He paused. “It’s funny. I kept trying to give you all despair so that your hope would grow stronger. Now the same is happening to me. Lymphoma, dementia, and now an amputation. Really, when my hope overcomes this, it will be strong enough to make me Ultimate Hope, I know it. I’ll be an inspiration to everyone.” He paused. “But you don’t really want to hear about my troubles.”  
“It’s fine. I asked, after all,” I said calmly, still not quite processing all his statements.  
At this point, he turned to me, encouraged. “In all honesty, I was about to give into despair. But then you came to see me today. You give me so much hope, Hajime. I mean it.” I had never seen such a look on his face as the one he gave me now. It’s hard to describe. There was hope, mixed with pain, and regret, and...something else profound.  
I had no response. It sounded almost like a love confession, which made no sense. Just before he “died”, he had hated me. He had hated that I had been part of Ultimate Despair, that I had no talent, that I was just a Reserve Course student. Did he know the truth about my past? I thought that would have made him hate me more. I didn’t know how to, nor did I want to, express these thoughts out loud just then, so instead I stood in silence.  
He watched me with those grey eyes of his as we waited for Eri to come back. I did my best to not to look at him, but inevitably my eyes wandered to the most prominent feature of the room--him. Each time I did, his grey eyes met mine, and he widened his smile just a bit, at which point I would hastily look away. The entire time, he looked at nothing but me, and the entire time I felt his gaze burn into me. It was almost tortuous.  
Neither of us spoke until the door opened a crack. I immediately turned to greet Eri, who looked surprisingly sheepish. Had she been trying to spy on us? If she had, it wasn’t very effective. I had noticed her immediately.  
She walked in with a plastic bag on her arm, and after nodding a quick greeting to me, knelt on the ground in front of Nagito.  
“I got some wipes, too, since I figured you don’t have those in here either. And fresh medical tape. Honestly, do I have to do everything for you?”  
He glanced at me, his face flushed as Eri began unwrapping the tape that helped hold the pads in place on his legs. “I-I am a bit limited, you know,” he told her.  
“Oh please. That thing has wheels. And besides, if you at least asked someone, you would still be taking responsibility. Do you not even care about your body anymore?”  
“O-of course I care,” he said.  
“Then act like it,” she replied, cutting off any excuse he might have tried to make. She finished unwrapping the first pad and began to gently pull it off.  
Nagito flinched slightly after the whole thing was off, and as Eri went to unwrap the next one, he placed his hands over it, blocking her access.  
Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him silently.  
“I can do it myself, you know,” he said, sounding incredibly embarrassed. Did he think it was demeaning for someone else to remove whatever those pads were? She’s basically his doctor, for crying out loud. Does he think I care?  
“Fine, then. Do it yourself. I’ll be out in the hall. I need to talk to Hajime for a minute, anyway.” And with that, she practically dragged me out of the room.  
She carefully closed the door behind her, and aggravated look still on her face. The door clicked softly, and for a moment neither of us moved. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, when she suddenly turned around and hugged me.  
“Um…”  
“Thank you, Hajime!” she said. “Thank you so much!”  
“Wh-what? I-I didn’t do anything,” I stammered, still shocked by her sudden move.  
She released me from her powerful hug and looked at me, grinning wildly. “Yes, you did. You turned a bad day into a good day.”  
Again, I was confused. “What do you mean?”  
“Today was going to be a bad day. He barely responded when I spoke to him, and he didn’t even acknowledge you at first. Today was especially bad, even compared to his other bad days. Normally he at least says hello or something. I thought I was going to have to go through the motions without him.” Her face darkened for a moment as she paused. She cheered back up as she spoke again. “But then he saw you. He heard your voice, and he was acting like his usual self immediately. This was the most cheerful I’ve seen him in weeks. And it almost didn’t happen. Do you know what this means?” She asked me.  
When I stared at her blankly, she continued. “It means he hasn’t given up. It means Future Foundation won’t give up. They were considering moving me somewhere where I would be ‘more useful’, where I could work with patients that could actually be saved, but I told them that I wanted to stay. I was about to give up, too. But now we know he can recover! This is a huge step forward. Not just for him, but for everyone. He was the most unstable, after all. If he can recover, so can the rest!” She hugged me again, though less painfully. “And it’s because of you, Hajime. You’ve given me hope for everyone here. Thank you.”  
Hope. Again, someone telling me that I gave them hope. It was my official talent, but it was still strange.  
“Y-yeah, no problem,” I said, hiding my uncertainties as best I could.  
For a moment, we stood there, neither of us saying anything. Eri looked more cheerful than I probably did, which was understandable. She basically found a way to save a patient she thought was lost. I, however, did my best to avoid contemplating what this meant for me. Would I have to get involved in Nagito’s recovery, now? If I was his reason for living, how much time would I have to spend with him to keep him alive? I still felt uneasy around him because of the simulation. And I was still working on my own recovery, of sorts. I was still working to overcome Izuru. I had most of the control, but sometimes, if I got to angry about something…  
“What was that?” Eri said, cutting off my thoughts. “It sounded like the doorknob rattled or something. But I thought they didn’t lock from the inside…”  
Indeed, there had been a faint clattering sound. Eri tried to open the door. “It won’t open!”  
“What?” I stepped forward and tried for myself. Sure enough, it seemed something was blocking the door.  
“Nagito! Are you okay?” Eri called.  
There was no response from inside. I was still tugging at the door, trying to force it open.  
“Stop for a second,” Eri ordered. I moved out of her way as she pressed her ear to the wooden door. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Nagito! What’s going on in there?! Open the door!”  
“What’s happening?” I asked her.  
“I can hear screaming. It’s muffled, like someone’s hiding it. But it has to be Nagito. There’s no one else in there. What is he doing?” She asked herself more than she asked me.  
I attacked the door with renewed effort. “Nagito! Open up!” I shouted as I violently shook the door. It didn’t take long for a large clatter to be heard from inside just as the door suddenly swung open. Something, probably the chair, had likely been wedged under the knob to prevent entry. I shoved the door open the rest of the way, causing the toppled chair to clatter even more as it got pushed aside into the room. I ran in first, Eri close behind, a worried look on her face.  
Nagito was curled up on the bed, his eyes wide with pain. Brown duct taped covered his mouth, and I could clearly see him screaming through it. The sound came through a bit, high and piercing. His back was to the wall, and his right hand was held close to his chest. His left hand, still with the prosthetic, was desperately clutching his right, likely the source of his pain. Somehow the IV was still attached, though the tube was extended almost to its limit. He didn’t seem to notice that we had come in, as loud as we were.  
I stood there, shocked and a bit terrified. In the few minutes between our exit and now, something had put him into this extreme pain. I caught sight of his right hand, and it was smooth, without a single blemish or scar. What the hell...?  
Eri seemed to know what to do. She rushed over to his desk and began to tear open drawers. After pulling them all open, a couple all the way out so that they sat upturned on the floor, she scanned the room. Her eyes held panic and fear, but also understanding and determination. She saw his coat in a pile on the floor near where the chair had been, and she immediately began to riffle through the pockets. She immediately found what she was looking for; an orange pill bottle.  
Twisting off the white plastic cap, she carefully tapped out two pills. Unlike her haphazard search, she carefully approached Nagito, who turned his manic gaze onto her. He didn’t move his head at all, just his eyes, and it was terrifying to look at.  
“Nagito, I’m going to remove the duct tape,” she told him. Her voice was firm, yet gentle, like she was dealing with an animal.  
His eyes widened even further; I hadn’t thought it was possible. He was still screaming below the tape, and at Eri’s statement, it seemed he was screaming louder. The sound was still muffled, but even still the fear and pain was audible.  
“It’s going to be okay, Nagito. I’m going to help.”  
His eyes flicked to where I was standing. I couldn’t tell if he was looking for encouragement or if he didn’t want me to see this. I tried to give him an awkward smile. “She just wants to help,” I managed to say.  
He looked back to Eri, who was next to the bed at this point. She gave him a more natural looking smile. Slowly, he stopped screaming, though he was clearly still in immense pain. He was breathing wildly through his nose and I could see his chest rise and fall at a breakneck pace.  
Eri leaned forward and reached cautiously towards his face. Her delicate fingers brushed his cheek, and he started breathing more frantically. As she grabbed the edge of the duct tape farthest from her, Nagito began screaming again and curled up tighter around his right hand.  
Without hesitating Eri quickly grabbed the tape and pulled hard.  
Nagito’s screams suddenly came at their full volume. I had to cover my ears. It was loud, but beyond that, you could hear how much pain he was in through that pure, visceral scream.  
Eri, with incredible bravery, put her empty hand on Nagito’s shoulder. His eyes were squeezed closed to the world around him. He was only focused on his pain.  
“Nagito, I’m going to give you medicine. I need to to swallow it, okay?”  
He didn’t give any indication that he heard her.  
“Nagito! I need you to listen!” she said more forcefully, squeezing his shoulder as well.  
He clenched his teeth, blocking some of the sound. I uncovered my ears.  
“I’m going to give you medicine. Two pills. I need you to swallow them.”  
He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to face her.  
Taking that as agreement, she let go of his shoulder and reached out with her other hand. She placed the first pill in front of his mouth, and he had to force his teeth apart. He wasn’t screaming right now, only through sheer willpower. As soon as the gap was wide enough, she slid the pill into his mouth. After a few seconds, he swallowed it. His body was shaking with the effort it took to keep his screams in. Eri calmly repeated the process with the second pill.  
After he had taken both pills, he tucked his head into the ball he had formed, and continued to scream in pain. His body helped muffle the sound, but it was still heart wrenching to hear, even for me.  
“Those pills won’t take effect for at least half an hour.”  
He didn’t acknowledge her at this point.  
“Do you want something to make you sleep for a bit?”  
I couldn’t quite see, but he seemed to make a positive motion with his head.  
Eri stood up and reached into the small purse draped over her shoulder. She pulled out another orange bottle and opened it. This time, she only removed one pill. It was much smaller than the other two had been, and it was circular instead of the typical “pill” shape.  
She held out the pill, and Nagito shakily lifted his head, once again with clenched teeth to hold back his violent screaming. He opened his teeth just enough for the pill to go through once again, and Eri carefully placed it in.  
He swallowed it, and after about two minutes of screaming into his chest, he went silent and fell sideways onto the bed, his legs uncurling somewhat from his now limp arms. He was sweating, and his features were still twisted in pain, but his face looked a bit softer, and his eyes were closed in a natural looking way instead of being screwed shut like they were before.  
Eri stood up and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead.  
“So much for a good day,” she mumbled.  
I was silent for a moment, staring at the unconscious Nagito. “What was that?” I whispered, as if afraid to wake him from his medically induced sleep.  
“Phantom pain,” she said just as quietly. “Left over from the simulation. Normally it occurs is amputated limbs. Patients sometimes feel pain in the missing appendage. But this is a bit different. Sometimes, he feels the pain from the wounds he inflicted on himself before he died in there. It’s especially bad in his right hand. That was where he stabbed the knife all the way through, right? Well, we have him wear the TENS units on his legs and left arm. They send a harmless electrical signal that helps get rid of the pain. But his hand comes and goes. I thought he was getting better, but I guess he’s been doing this,” she said, waving a hand at him. “The medicine I gave him is called dextromethorphan. It’s often used as cough medicine, but it also serves as a painkiller.  
“I told him to take some if he felt pain in his hand. He hasn’t asked for a refill, so I thought he didn’t need it. It looks like he hasn’t been taking any.” She looked around the room. “Here, see?” she said, bending down and picking up a roll of duct tape off the floor. “This is used, and not just today.”  
“Why?” I asked. “If it hurts this much, why cover his mouth and scream? Why endure it? It must be torture.”  
Eri simply shook her head. “He’s Nagito. How am I supposed to know?” She gave a small laugh, but there was no real humor in it. I could sense her stress. “Anyway, he’ll be out for a while. You can leave, if you want to. Sorry about all this.”  
“What are you going to do?”  
“I’ll stay in here for a bit, make sure the painkiller works. Maybe organize for him a bit. Geez, it’s a mess in here.” She laughed again, this time a bit more genuine.  
“I’ll help,” I told her.  
“No, it’s fine. Really. I just don’t want to leave him alone right now.”  
I had already picked up the chair and stood it up the way it was supposed to go. “I don’t mind. I don’t really have anything better to do, anyway.”  
“If you’re sure. It’s going to be awfully boring.”  
“It’s fine.”  
We started with the books. We assumed that the ones in the pile were ones he hadn’t read yet, though based on the way the other books strewn about, it was unlikely he had finished most of the ones he’d started.  
“I wonder why he’s so obsessed with books...” I said to the air.  
“He says he isn’t affected by his luck cycle when he reads.”  
I was surprised that she knew the answer. “Really?”  
“Yeah. I guess since it doesn’t require doing anything that could possibly go wrong. It’s hard to have tragedy happen when you’re just sitting still.”  
“Huh.” Now that I thought about it, he had spent a lot of time in the library. And when Chiaki and I had examined his cottage, there had been lots of books on the shelves.  
We simply closed all the books that had been left open on the floor, whether or not there was a bookmark to put in the page. We gathered them all up and stacked them neatly on the desk, making sure to keep the supposed “unread” pile a bit separate.  
Once that was done, Eri left for a few minutes. When she returned, she had a large laundry basket.  
“I’m still surprised he even has this many clothes,” she said, and I couldn’t help but smile.  
After all the clothes had been mercilessly shoved into the wide plastic basket, we simply stood there.  
“I don’t particularly want to do his laundry,” she told me. “A man’s laundry is his business.”  
“Well, I’m not doing it,” I told her.  
For a moment, neither of us spoke.  
“I think it’s good enough that it’s off the floor,” I said.  
“Agreed.”  
She looked over to where he was still asleep. The medicine ad taken effect, and he was laying there peacefully. She walked over and carefully rolled the IV rack closer to the head of the bed. “Give me a hand?” she asked quietly, tugging a bit at the top of the blanket that he was on top of.  
I walked over and, after getting a nod of approval, put my arms under his unconscious form and lifted him up. He was surprisingly--well, not really surprisingly--lightweight. He was very bony, too. He felt like a shadow of a person in my arms.  
Eri pulled the blanket out from under where he had been, and I carefully put him back down, making sure his head landed on the pillow this time. She gently laid the blanket over him, careful not to dislodge the IV needle.  
I stared at him for a moment. Asleep like this, he didn’t look like a crazy would-be murderer. He just looked sick. His face was pale as death, and though he was certainly more relaxed, he still had pain etched into his face. There was still sweat on his forehead, and overall he just looked weak.  
“You know, when he’s like this, it’s hard to believe what he did to you guys,” Eri said, her voice barely above a whisper.  
I looked at her suddenly. It was as if she read my thoughts. But she was just watching Nagito, almost lost in her own world.  
“Y-yeah,” I said. “But he did. He tried to kill Byaku--I mean, the Ultimate Imposter, and then he tried to frame the rest of us for his murder. He threatened to blow everything up, too. He isn’t innocent. No matter how it might seem now.”  
It was a bit harsh, especially given his current condition. But it was true.  
Eri turned to look at me. She looked sad. Just sad; there wasn’t despair, or fear, or anxiety. Just pure sadness.  
“I know. But people change.”  
I can’t describe the look she gave me. There was so much emotion and thought going on in that look. Did she know about my past? If she did, did she forgive me? Those answers played into the feeling behind her look. I think she did know. She was including me in her statement, I was sure.  
I turned away. It made me feel guilty, of what I couldn’t say, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stand that look anymore.  
“I...have to go. I’ll see you later. Let me know...if you need me back here...for him...or something.” I walked across the room, opened the door, and left without looking back.


End file.
